  Great Mahawasant, of Siam the King, Has half of India under his wing; Twelve kings, with the Great Mogul, obey His rule, and acknowledge his sovereign sway. Each year with banner, trumpet, and drum To Siam the trains with the tribute come; Many thousand camels, with backs piled high With the costliest treasures of earth, draw nigh. When the camels he sees with their heavy piles, The soul of the King in secret smiles; But in public in truth he always deplores That his storehouses serve not to hold all his stores. Yet these storehouses all are so lofty and spacious, So full of magnificence, so capacious, The reality’s splendour surpasses in glory The Arabian Nights’ most wondrous story. The “Castle of Indra” call they the hall In which are display’d the deities all, The golden images, chisell’d with care, And all incrusted with jewels so fair. Full thirty thousand their numbers are, Their ugliness passes description far; A compound of men and animals dread, With many a hand and many a head. In the “Hall of purple” one wond’ringly sees Some thirteen hundred coral trees, As big as palms, a singular sight, With spiral branches, a forest bright. The floor of purest crystal is made, And all the trees are in it display’d, While pheasants of glittering plumage gay Strut up and down in a dignified way. The ape on which the monarch doth dote A ribbon of silk wears round his throat, Whence hangs the key that opens the hall Which people the “Chamber of Slumber” call. All kinds of jewels of value high All over the ground here scatter’d lie Like common peas, with diamonds rare That in size with the egg of a fowl compare. On sacks that stuff’d with pearls appear The Monarch is wont to stretch himself here; The ape lies down by the monarch proud, And both of them slumber and snore aloud. But the King’s most precious, costly treasure, His happiness, his soul’s first pleasure, The joy and the pride of Mahawasant Is truly his snow-white elephant. As a home for a guest so highly respected A splendid palace the King has erected; Gay lotos-headed columns uphold Its roof, all cover’d with plates of gold. Three hundred heralds stand at the gate, As the elephant’s guard of honour to wait; And kneeling down with low-bent back There serve him a hundred eunuchs black. For his proboscis the daintiest meat On golden dishes they bring him to eat; From silver buckets he drinks his wine, Well season’d with spices sweet and fine. With perfumes they rub him, and otto of roses On his head a chaplet of flowers reposes, The richest shawls that are made in the East As carpets serve for the dignified beast. The happiest life appears to be his, But no one on earth contented is; The noble creature,—one cannot tell why,— Gives way to a deep despondency. The melancholy monster white Is wretched, all this profusion despite; They fain would enliven and cheer him again, But all their cleverest efforts are vain. In vain with singing and springing there come The bayaderes; the kettle drum And cornet in vain the musicians play, But nothing can make the elephant gay. As matters continue to go on badly, The heart of Mahawasant beats sadly; He sends for the wisest astrologer known, And bids him stand before his throne. “Stargazer, I’ll cut off at once your head”— Thus speaks he, “unless you can tell me instead “What is it that my poor elephant needs, “And why his spirit with sorrow so bleeds.” The other one threw himself thrice on the ground, And finally spoke with obeisance profound: “O monarch, I’ll tell thee the actual fact, “And then as thou will’st, thou canst afterwards act. “There lives in the North a woman fair, “Of lofty stature and beauty rare; “Thy elephant’s certainly handsome, Sir, “But still not fit to be liken’d to her. “Compared with her, he only appears “A little white mouse; her form she rears “Like giantess Bimha in Ramajana, “And like the Ephesians’ great Diana. “Her limbs are combined in a beautiful frame; “Two lofty pilasters support the same, “And proudly and gracefully stand upright, “Of alabaster dazzling and white. “This is God Amor’s temple gigantic, “In other words, love’s cathedral romantic! “As lamp there burns within the fane “A heart quite free from spot and stain. “The poets are nonpluss’d how to begin “To describe the charms of her snow-white skin; “E’en Gautier “Its whiteness all description surpasses. |
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